


Tiptoes

by soundofez



Series: In Step [1]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: (Death the Kid), (Death the Kid/Wes Evans), (Franken Stein), (Kim Diehl), (Liz Thompson), (Mifune), (Soul Eater Evans), (Tsubaki Nakatsukasa), (Wes Evans), Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Lovely Complex AU, as with any of my aus u don't gotta know the au source material tho ovob, ft. ace soul, i love him he is a gift, suna!soul if u will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofez/pseuds/soundofez
Summary: Basketball MVP Black Star and top student Maka Albarn don't always see eye to eye, especially since one towers over the other. When tutoring sessions bring them closer together, though, Star finds himself falling for Maka. All he has to do now is convince a titaness that it is the age ofhobbitssmall men!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [L0chn3ss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L0chn3ss/gifts), [happyisahabit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/gifts).



> WELCOME TO REVERB SEASON, Y'ALL. Big love for all those at [reverbmod](http://reverbmod.tumblr.com/) for putting this event together! My partners (!!) this year have been [@happyisahabit](http://happyisahabit.tumblr.com) and [@L0chness](http://L0chn3ss.tumblr.com), and they have been absolutely amazing to work with!
> 
>  **Links:** [[event tumblr](http://reverbmod.tumblr.com)] [[happy's art](https://happyfanart.tumblr.com/post/162745681319/happy-reverb-i-got-to-work-with-the-often)] [[ness's scarf](http://l0chn3ss.tumblr.com/post/162746736110/tiptoes-a-mastar-reverb-2017-hand-knitted)] [[ness's wristband](http://l0chn3ss.tumblr.com/post/162747160345/tiptoes-a-mastar-reverb-2017-hand-knitted)] [[ness's playlist](http://l0chn3ss.tumblr.com/post/162746229100/tiptoes-a-mastar-reverb-2017-electro-dance)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: vaguely xenophobic insults

"Welcome to Deathbucks, how can I heh _hhllllll_."

Star ducks back into the break room and hopes that his titaness of a classmate hadn't looked up from her phone fast enough to spot him. His co-worker glances at him over a mouthful of her dinner.

" _Kim, help._ "

She looks disdainful. "No."

"I'm not allowed to work part-time and the customer is my _class rep_. **_Help._** "

Kim pauses. Swallows. Then, leisurely pushing herself to her feet, she says, "Fine, but you owe me."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"And _don't touch my food_."

Star sticks his tongue out at her. "No guarantees."

Kim stabs her fingers in a V towards her eyes, and then flicks them at Star as she saunters out. He plasters himself to the break room door to eavesdrop.

"Sorry about that!" Kim's voice is customer-service bubbly. "My coworker is just a little _shy_ around girls."

Star's class rep murmurs a reply too faint for Star to hear, but Kim laughs obnoxiously in response. "How funny! Well, can I take your order?"

Maybe if he ditches work now he can sneak past them. Kim'll probably give him hell later, but Star has kept away from her food, and anyway he's pretty sure that Mifune would rather keep him than be forced to lose the extra hands.

He's still congratulating himself on this plan when he walks out of the employee-only door and bounces straight off Maka Albarn's chest.

"I thought that was you," she says with a smug grin.

Star scrambles for something to say. "Uhhh— fuck off." Great. Nailed it.

" 'Welcome to Deathbucks, how can I _help_.' " She pops the P at the end. "It's rude to swear at customers."

He stares at her. "... You're not gonna report me for working part-time?"

She shrugs back. "Nah. I never pegged you as a service person, but it was actually pretty funny to watch you freak out."

"Wow. Prim and proper Maka Albarn will actually let me get away with breaking rules?"

Albarn crosses her arms. "Rules have reasons for being rules. This rule is just a little outdated—"

"Outdated?" Star scoffs. "What's your nickname for me again?"

"Hey, Lord of the Rings is a _timeless English classic_. Accept your fate as a hobbit."

He glares at her stuck-out tongue. "Be real, titaness. Lord of the Rings is for _old, outdated foreigners_."

Her face goes red. "Well, if you want to be a pure-blooded prick, go ahead. Oh, wait— you can't read, so you probably missed that reference, too."

He didn't— he's poor, not stupid. He also knows that Albarn is half-American, knows that he probably went too far by calling her a foreigner. But she also went out of line— he is _poor_ , not _stupid_ , so he snaps, "Excuse me for having a _job_ , Albarn. We can't all afford to sit around reading English fantasy novels."

"You were about to sneak out," Albarn points out viciously.

"So that you wouldn't catch me and report me!" Star retorts.

"Which I'm _not going to do_."

He opens his mouth to yell back, but the words die in his throat. She's not ratting him out. He can keep his job.

He sighs. Glances down and away from her face. Massages his neck with a hand. Looks back up again. "Sorry. 'Bout calling you a foreigner."

She sighs, too. Sags a little, even, but she's so tall that she still towers over him. "Sorry for implying that you were illiterate," she says.

She might have said more, but Kim interrupts irritably from the kitchen: "Hey, Black _Hole_ , get back in here and help me fill this order before I text Mifune."

Albarn waves. "Go on."

Star lifts a half-hearted hand as he backs through the employee-only door. "Later, Albarn."

* * *

"Ms Maka, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course, Coach Stein. What can I do to help?"

"One of my players, one of your classmates, is struggling academically. You're at the top of the class, so naturally I wondered if you could help..."

"Absolutely! Who are they?"

"Before I tell you, can you promise me that you'll help? You seem to know each other quite well already, and I don't want to give either of you an excuse to mess around—"

" _I would never._ "

"Heh, alright. Do you know where Barrett lives?"

"Ba— _Black Star_? Professor, I'm sorry—"

"Yes or no question, Ms Maka. You did promise to help, didn't you?"

"I— I did, but—"

"He'll meet you in the gym after school on Monday, and you can arrange future meeting times and places from there. It would be horribly unfortunate for us to lose our star freshman to poor academics, so I'll leave him to you."

"A-alright..."

* * *

His grades suck.

He's not _stupid_ — it's just that between basketball club and part time work at Deathbucks and helping Sid and Mira watch the convenience store, he hasn't really had time to study.

"I believe you," Coach Stein sighs, "but you'll be on probation for a while." Star tries to protest, but Stein continues, "I found you a tutor. You'll meet with her during Monday practices, and I hope you can arrange time outside that to further improve your grades."

"Her?"

Stein smiles slightly. It's one of his half-smile, half-smirks that the basketball team collectively call _smikes_ ever since one of the seniors typo'd in the group text. "Her."

He should've known better after that smike, but Star maybe sort of accidentally gets his hopes up, and when he first spots her sitting in the bleachers, she has her hair down, hiding her face. Then, of course, she pulls her hair away from her face to tie it into her usual pigtails, and Star is faced with the unpleasant realization that Maka Albarn is actually kind of cute.

It's an uncomfortable discovery. Star doesn't like overthinking things— leave that to bookworms like Albarn. One day, though, the words come out before he really even thinks about them. "Hey, Maka."

She sighs. Leans across the library table toward him. Her legs go for miles, but her torso doesn't, and so they're almost the same height when they're seated like this. "Yes, Black Star? What is it?"

Her eyes have moved from her workbook to his. _Annoying._ He's not so stupid that he can't read a passage of English, he just wants her to look at him. "Go out with me," he half-demands.

"Stop joking around, hobbit." But her eyes have flickered up to meet his, and there's a deep crease in her brow. She's angry.

She's angry? _He's_ angry. "Who's joking, titaness?" he snaps, and is rewarded with a karate chop to the top of his head.

His ego and his head sting with rejection. He keeps both to a sulking low for the rest of the day.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Star tries to Fite Soul. (no one gets hurt.)

"Evans?"

"Yeah, Albarn?"

"You're on the basketball team, right?"

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"N-no reason."

"... We have a tournament next Saturday. You should come."

"Huh? Why would I do that?"

"Pff. Dunno. Same reason you wanted to know that I'm on the team, right?"

"You're laughing at me."

"Nah, it's just... you remind me of Star."

"Excuse me? Why would I remind you of that hobbit?"

"No reason... titaness.— ow, hey! Cut that out!"

" _Don't call me titaness!_ "

"Okay, okay! Stop _hitting, geez_. Will you come to the game or not?"

"... Where will it be?"

"Ugh. You have a phone, right? Gimme your email and I'll text you where to go."

* * *

Eater is one of the last people to come out of the showers, and does so fully clothed with a damp towel draped over his dripping wet hair. He stops for a moment when he sees Star. Then, cautiously, "Hey."

"Eater. What is Maka to you?" Star asks.

Eater shrugs. Star gets the distinct feeling that he's being toyed with. "She's class rep, like me. I guess that makes her my partner?"

Before he can say another word, Star has darted over and grabbed fistfuls of Eater's shirt, yanking the taller boy down so they're face to face. "You—" he starts, but he can't find the words, because it's not like Maka likes him back. "Don't play with her," he finally spits.

Eater chuckles nervously. "Chill, dude," he huffs. His blunt fingernails scrabble against the back of Star's hand. He's tall, taller than Star by a _lot_ , but he can't match up to Star's strength. " _We're class reps,_ " Eater insists. "Sometimes, when we're running errands for Coach Stein, we chat. Sometimes, on a hunch, I ask her if she wants to see a game that I'm _not even playing in_ —"

"So why?"

Eater gives Star a disbelieving look. "Really? You don't get it— hey, wait, no! I swear, you're both so punch-happy, it's like you're made for each other."

"We're not," Star says shortly, and hates how sympathetic Eater looks.

"If you say so. Good luck on Saturday."

* * *

"I didn't know you were into basketball."

"I'm not, really, but Soul invited me. I thought it'd be rude to turn him down."

"Really? Huh, I didn't think he was coming. Where is he?"

"He didn't say, just told me to show up at the school gates. Then you showed up—"

"— And picked you up, yeah, I gotcha. Man, I wonder what Soul's thinking— Oh, come on! Hell _yeah_ do we get a free throw on that bullshit!"

"What? What's going on? Hey, Liz—"

"Sh! Star's making a free throw."

"... What's a free throw?"

"... _Wow._ You could be celebrating the points, you know."

"I'm not stupid, I figured that out on my own. Why is our score odd? I've been checking and it's been incrementing by two for the entire game."

"What? Oh. Baskets during play are two points, free throws are one point, and see that big semicircle on the floor? The one that takes up half the court?"

"... That's a parabola."

"Yeah, that. Shots scored from outside that get three points. So, Soul?"

"He's the other rep for our class."

"So you're close?"

"No, he's the other rep for my class."

"He invited you to the game. There's gotta be _something_."

"He's the other rep for my class?"

"Either you're oblivious, or he's got other plans."

"He's pretty quiet most of the time.— Hey, where'd Star go?"

"Huh? Oh, look, Coach Stein benched him. That's... an ice pack? Damn, guess he really got hurt by that asshole from earlier."

"Oh."

"... Oh. I see what's happening here. Okay, yeah, that makes sense."

"What?"

"Soul's more like his brother than he likes to admit, that's all."

"... What?"

"Nothing, forget I said anything."

* * *

"I saw you at your game on Saturday."

Star glances at Maka, who is hiding behind a raised textbook across her kotatsu. "You came?"

"Soul invited me," Maka says.

Star's gut twists with something like jealousy. "Wonder why. He didn't even play at that shitshow," he grumbles. They'd lost the game, after that _assface Gorgon_ had bruised his wrist badly enough that Coach had benched him after the free throws.

Maka's eyes peek out from over her textbook. "Huh? Did it go that badly?" she asks. "I mean, I know you guys lost, but the score looked pretty even. And Liz said you got hurt, but you look okay now."

Star flexes his wrist. "Coach is making me take things lightly to make sure I heal up properly," he mutters.

"He's just trying to protect—"

"I know. Doesn't mean I like it." Nor does he like how Eater and Tsubaki have been tag-teaming him to make sure he follows Stein's directives. He plants his face in his workbook at the thought of his teammate, wondering what the hell Eater is playing at. _It's like you're made for each other,_ the guy had said, hadn't he? Star sneaks a glance at Maka (at her textbook, rather) and wonders how perceptive Eater really is.

"Go out with me," he says, testing the words.

Maka's textbook drops to the kotatsu with a thud. Maka herself has a weird look on her face. "Huh?"

"Go out with me," he repeats, and watches her eyebrows disappear under her bangs.

"Are you dreaming?" she asks, reaching across her kotatsu and pinching his cheek lightly. "Who is it this time? Your manager— Tsubaki is pretty cute, do you like her?"

He swats her hand away and peels his face off the tabletop. "For a bookworm, you're awfully stupid," he grumbles, shoving pencils and papers haphazardly into his bag.

"Excuse me?" She's not mad yet, but she's well past confused. "Which of us is top in their class, again?"

He vaguely wants to punch something. Maybe he'll skip work and pick a fight with Sid over his convenience store hours. "Think it over, idiot titan."

"Don't call me that! Where are you going?" Maka demands.

" _Work._ " Shit.

* * *

"Here's your order, Miss."

"Thanks, Kim."

"So is there a reason why you've been camped out here for the past three hours?"

"... He asked me out."

" _Really?_ "

"I don't know! It's _Black Star_ , so he's got to be joking, but he seemed really upset?"

"Yeah, I was wondering why he was all pissy..."

" _Ugh._ I just... he's an asshole, but he's not actually a bad guy? I don't want to hurt him."

"Oh. I didn't peg you as the type to go for shortstacks. Why'd you reject him, if you're so into him?"

"Wha— I am not _into him_."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"You're the worst, Kim."

"I take tips."

* * *

Mifune taps Star's shoulder half an hour before his shift ends. "Go home," the older man says.

Star glances at the clock. "What?"

"Go home," Mifune repeats. His eyes slide away from star and toward a blonde, pigtailed customer.

Star grimaces. "Really?"

"Be grateful." The man retreats back into the kitchen.

Star debates working anyway— and working _overtime_ , just to spite Mifune— but he does have to get home, and maybe he can slip past Maka if he goes now.

It works about as well as his first attempted escape does.

"Were you serious, earlier?" Maka asks quietly as she leans against the wall next to the employee-only door.

Star brushes past her.

She follows. "Because if you weren't," she says, "then don't joke like that. You know... you've seen my papa."

Star winces. Yes, he's seen Mr. Albarn. Specifically, he's seen Mr. Albarn with women who look nothing like Maka and nothing like each other. "Yeah," he agrees, "Your old man is a dick."

"So don't joke about it."

"Who said I was joking?"

Maka grabs his shoulder, pulling him to a stop. There's a crease between her brows. "You really feel that way? For me?"

Knowing Maka, she's made things complicated somehow. He wants to make sure she _gets it_ , so he asks, "Feel what way?"

She takes his question wrong, probably, because she whacks his shoulder with an open palm. "Why do you want to date me?" she asks, dodging his question.

Star grumbles. Runs a hand through his hair. She really won't get it unless he tells her. He starts walking again. Moving gives him the courage to muster up the words: "Because I wanna kiss your stupid face."

Maka doesn't whack him this time. Weird— she usually hates being called stupid, almost as much as she hates being half. He glances at her to make sure she heard him. She's upset, but not at him, because if she were, she'd have just Maka-chopped him and gotten it out of her system.

"You're overthinking," he announces. "Either you'll go out with me or you won't. But you _will_ , because I'm Black Star." He's rambling and stubborn and blindly hopeful, as if maybe this time he can buoy Maka along by sheer force of will.

"I won't," Maka says dully.

(Outrage. Frustration. Despair. Star _hurts_. Some part of him believed that despite everything, Maka would say yes. Isn't he, Black Star, worth anything? But she's still Maka, titaness to Star's hobbit, and with her nothing is ever so easy.)

"I can't think of you like that," she is explaining. "Star, you're my friend." (Reluctant pride. They've come a long way since the beginning of the school year, when Star was absolutely certain that Maka would rat him out.) "I can't just suddenly want to suck your face." Maka wrinkles her nose at the words.

Part of him is insulted (he would not _suck her face_ , he is better than that). The rest of him still stings over her flat rejection. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. He nudges her side with his elbow and snorts when she yelps. "I still say you're overthinking it. And anyway— I'm not gonna stop. Gonna love the shit out of you, Maks." It's a warning as much as it is a promise.

"Dumbass," Maka grumbles back. "You're not gonna start stalking me, are you?"

"I'm a god, not a creep, and I _have_ followers, not the other way around," Star says indignantly. Then, with a _smike_ , "I'm not a follower, but I'll be yours, and you'll know it."

* * *

"Excuse me, Maka? Maka Albarn?"

"Yes? Oh! You're Tsubaki, right? Nakatsukasa? Basketball team manager?"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"Um."

"Did... did Black Star tell you?"

"He and Soul mention you sometimes, yes."

"Oh! You know Soul, too?"

"Yeah, he's my fellow class rep."

"Oh. Oh! So you and him— You and Soul!"

"No. Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"No? You're not... you're not with Black Star, are you?"

" _No way._ Has that idiot been saying that we are?"

"No, no! It's just... well... you two get along very well, so I couldn't help but wonder."

"What— Who could get along with that _hobbit_?"

"Eheh, he's kind of cool, though."

" _What._ "

"Thanks, Maka! I'll see you around!"

* * *

"You're late," Maka snaps.

Star lifts a brow as he dumps his schoolbag into the booth seat across from her. "Someone's pissy."

"You should've just gone on that date with Nakatsukasa."

Irritation. Star scoots into the seat clumsily, knocking the table between them crooked. "I don't want to date Nakatsukasa," he says flatly. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Albarn."

Maka sulks, retreating behind a textbook.

Something barrels into his side. "It's Star, it's Star!" they shout happily.

Star pats at the girl's short hair. "Hi, Angela. Where's your dad?"

The little girl grins up at him. "Mif's in the kitchen. Why aren't you in the kitchen, too?"

"I don't start work for another hour," Star explains. "My classmate came to help me study."

Angela squints across the table, and then sticks her hand up over it. "Nice ta meetcha!"

Maka peeks over her textbook. "Nice to meet you, too. Angela?"

Angela shakes Maka's hand enthusiastically, if awkwardly. "You're Angela too?"

"Huh— Oh, no! Sorry, just— I'm Maka."

"Maaaaka." Angela grins brightly. "Star's girlfriend!"

"Not my girlfriend," Star corrects. "We gotta study now, okay?"

"Boooo." But she hurtles toward the backroom again, nearly tripping Kim, who delivers two steaming cups to Maka moments later.

When she's gone, too, Maka asks, "What if I don't want to get rid of you?"

"Then good." He blinks at her. "How'd you know about Nakatsukasa?"

Maka shoves one of her cups at him. "None of your business."

Star smirks. "Hey, I won't be offended if you've been stalking me. Remember, I'm used to having followers."

" _I'm not stalking you._ " Maka throws back her cup like it's more than caffeine. "And stop looking at me like that."

"Hey, Maka."

She glares as she picks up her textbook again. "What?"

"I like you." And he does. He likes her, likes talking about the latest horror games with her, likes riling her up with the nickname he's given her, likes how her height gives her grace that wars with her carelessness, likes that she is maybe starting to like him back.

Maka's ears are bright red. "Just do your homework," she mutters, and hides herself behind her textbook.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Wes? is probably his own warning tbh

"Ms Maka! Can you help me for a sec?"

"I could, but why not ask Soul?"

"Aww, I couldn't. It's no fun if I keep to myself like that!"

"Talking to Soul would hardly make you reclusive."

"Hm? Wouldn't it?"

"All due respect, sir, but you're not very professional."

"I've no idea what you mean, Ms Maka."

"I don't know about England, but teachers here in Japan don't flirt with their students."

"Oh! I assure you that is not my intent. The students here are just so sweet! And they're having such difficulties with their relationships. It's heartrending, really."

"Mr. Evans—"

"Please, just Wes."

"... Mr. Wes. Why are you flirting with high school girls?"

"Be honest, I was flirting with the boys, too. You're all so cute! But as I said, those are not my intentions. I just love happy endings. Speaking of, are you sure you don't want help with yours?"

"What— Why does everyone think that me and Soul—"

"Hah! _Soul_ with— Pfft, no, no. Soul is quite fine on his own. No, I'm talking about your little basketball player."

"What about him?"

"You like him, don't you?"

"No."

"That didn't sound like a very confident no."

"Men don't stay in love."

"Ah. My apologies, Maka—"

" _Ms_ Maka."

"My apologies, Ms Maka, but with all due respect, I don't think your boy is the kind to lose interest like that."

"You don't know that."

"At risk of sounding unprofessional: wanna bet?"

* * *

Coach Stein is on paternal leave of absence. This alone is fine: the only resentment Star has toward his coach is born of the vague wish that his own biological family had been so caring. No, the problem here is the substitute teach Stein left behind.

Then again, the last thing Star ever imagined was class rep, straight-A student, professionally single Maka Albarn drooling over anyone, let alone a _teacher_.

Mr. Wes is tall and wraith-like (Maka says), with pale skin and hair so black that Star is half-convinced the man dyes it. He's the polar opposite of Star in more than just looks, too: he's polite to a fault and _so flirtatious, why_. Worse, any time either of them gets anywhere near Maka, Mr. Wes makes sure to catch Star's eye and _smike_ , so smugly that Star is absolutely sure that the man is (1) related to Stein and (2) _mocking Star_.

Maka has no business being so charmed by Mr. Wes, Star thinks furiously, making a feint to try and get around him. He fails and bounces straight off the teacher's chest.

Mr. Wes steals the basketball easily and dribbles it away. "You alright, Little Star?" the man asks.

 _Irritating._ "It's _Black Star_ ," Star yells back as he shoves himself to his feet. "I'm getting water."

"Go, hydrate," Mr. Wes replies easily.

Star fumes all the way to the bench, where he snatches up his water bottle and gulps until it's empty, sooner than he expects, which drives his mood down further. When he turns back to the court, Mr. Wes is talking to Maka.

He stalks past them to refill his bottle at the spigot outside. Maka falls in behind him. "Mr. Wes is pretty cool, isn't he?"

Star glares. "Why do you like him so much?"

Maka smiles. It's not the smug, insufferable smile that Star is used to, but a shy, sweet smile that sends chills down Star's spine. "He and I have a bet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She's quiet for a moment. "You're angry."

"He doesn't love you." He's bitter about this, about how willing Maka is to fall for someone who is so like the father she hates.

"At least he's honest about it."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, and then Star crushes his bottle. Water spills over the top, joining the water from the tap and dripping around his hand and into the drain.

"Why," he asks himself aloud, "the _fuck_ am I trying to convince your titanic knucklehead that I like you?"

"How do you _know_?" she bursts. Her uncharacteristic smile is gone.

She's overthinking. _Of course_ she's overthinking. Star might have laughed if he weren't so pissed that she thinks he'd lie about liking her. "What's there to know?" he shoots back. "What, you really thought I'd play around like some kinda dickface?"

"You're a _boy_ ," Maka says, as though that explains everything.

"I'm a _person_ , Albarn. A person who loves you." He squints at her suspiciously. "You don't still think I'm joking, do you?"

"Papa never joked, but he cheated anyway," Maka says quietly.

He wants to punch something. "I'm not your dad. Don't underestimate my love, Maka."

Maka sighs. Leans against the wall beside the spigot. "I'm not underestimating love. I just don't believe in it."

Star waves an impatient hand. "No, forget _love_ , we're talking _me_ and _you_ , and how _I love you_. There's nothing to believe but me."

He stomps away. Maka doesn't follow, but she doesn't hang off of Mr. Wes's arm anymore, either.

* * *

"Oh, wow, Kid! It's been so long! When did you get back from England?"

"My, you've grown, Maka. It's only been a week or so, actually, I came back with my fiancé. You might have met him: he's a substitute at your school."

"Your— _Mr. Wes_?"

"Ahah, yes, that's him. He's charming, isn't he?"

"He— but he— he's so—?"

"Charming?"

"He's like _Papa_."

"... I will thank you never to suggest that again. No, Maka, he is not like Spirit. Wes... learned how to be charming, but he never really meant it quite the way your father does."

"... And you're a man, too."

"Yes, I am, thank you for noticing. What's on your mind?"

"There's... a boy who likes me."

"Ah. And you thought... Oh, Maka."

"He's just... I'm not his type. I didn't get why he'd go after me if not for a joke, you know? But he kept trying and... Kid, I don't _want_ to be in love. It's scary. It hurts."

"Scary, sure. But the best kinds of love heal, too, you know."

* * *

When they leave the locker rooms, Star is convincing Soul and Kilik to come visit Sid and Mira's shop for a post-victory celebration. (The real celebration dinner will be tomorrow: Tsubaki had insisted on everyone going home and resting for tonight.)

Star almost doesn't notice Maka— _almost_ , but he always notices Maka, so of course he sees her this time, too. "What are you hanging around for, titaness?" he demands. "Have you finally gotten over Wes and Kid?"

Maka's lips twist. "C'n I talk to you? Privately?"

Soul and Kilik exchange a knowing look before they excuse themselves. Star vaguely wants to wipe the smug looks off their faces.

"Good luck," Kilik mutters as he leaves.

"Don't fuck up," Soul adds, and follows their teammate out.

Maka sticks her tongue out at their backs. Star snickers.

"So what's up?" he asks.

"Oh. Um. Congrats on the win."

"Thanks...?" Something's off. Star squints at Maka, who squirms.

"I— here. They reminded me of you." And she shoves a little package into his hands. He unwraps it carefully. Pauses when he sees bright blue. Keeps going to find a star set into a black wristband.

Maka clears her throat. "I still don't believe in love," she says, "but I think I can believe in stars. So... be my lodestar?"

Star looks from the wristband to Maka, to the wristband again, and to Maka again. "R-really?" he stutters. "I mean— yeah! Hell to the yes!"

* * *

"You sure it's okay to ditch the dinner?"

"Yeah, they'll be fine without me."

"Aren't you being captained for next year?"

"Eh, I already said my goodbyes to Akane and Clay."

"... So I'm stealing you away."

"No, _I'm_ stealing _you_."

"Pfft. You sure about that, hobbit?"

"Nah, I just don't feel like being stolen. Hey, titaness, c'mere a sec."

"What for?"

"Well, I was thinking."

"Huh?"

"This should be good. Stay there."

"What're you doing?"

"Close your eyes. I wanna give you your present."

"... Mm! _Oh._ "

"... Thanks. For the sweatband. And for being the moon to my stars."

"Dumbass. It was a gift for my boyfriend, you don't have to thank me— um. But. You're welcome. And thanks, too. Did you... where did you get this?"

"I would study in the break room at the café, and Mifune's kid— You met her? Angela?"

"Yeah. She made this? It's so neat."

"No, she was learning, so between worksheets she'd teach me, and I kinda. Went for it."

" _You_ made this? You _made_ this?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Maks."

"That's not what I— urgh. You didn't— It's not..."

"You can just say thanks, you know. Doesn't have to be a big deal. It's just a scarf."

"It's a scarf you _made for me_. With _all the phases of the moon_. You. My boyfriend. _The entire lunar cycle._ "

"No, I'm the stars, remember?"

"Pfft. Yeah... yeah."

"So?"

"... Thanks, Star."

"Love you, Maks."

"... Love you, too."


End file.
